Well, well, well. I was really pleased with the depths that McCammon was able to get to in this one. It was swampy with dread and covered with dust and blood. Sticky. Dusty. Crumbling. It falls into the Southern Gothic pantheon for me but it moved way faster than molasses and both was and wasn’t entirely taken up with the main family, which was quite nice.

I’ve read some McCammon where it felt like the ensemble was getting away from him and a little too much stayed in and that was definitely not the case here. That said, electric blue still made quite the appearance. But of course it did.

A McCammon book without electric blue is like a day without me seeing a picture of Danger Crumples. Not going to happen